


not yet, at least

by ayselz



Series: es tevi dzirdu [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Wow, i'll write angst later, no it's not angst, wow look it's my otp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 05:50:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15701118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayselz/pseuds/ayselz
Summary: : in which Finland wakes up with a hollowness in his chest, and Latvia is not beside him.





	not yet, at least

**Author's Note:**

  * For [252_Yvi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/252_Yvi/gifts).



Country personifications had the uncanny ability to sense one another whenever they're within the same borders; it was akin to a built-in GPS system which made them aware one another's arrival with a tiny jolt, and after a few moments of concentration, they would be able to know who exactly was it. This exactly was the reason why when Finland woke up that morning, he was gripped with an overwhelming sense of dread.

“Latvia.” The space beside him was alarmingly empty and cold, as if the person who'd occupied it the night before had been gone for a long time now. Which most likely was the truth.

But, then again, she couldn't have flown out of Finland that quickly enough.

Heart pounding loudly against his chest, he threw the blankets off of him and almost leaped out of the bed. Her things were still there, the halfway-unzipped bags and the scarf he'd gotten her last Christmas. Yet he still couldn't feel her, no matter how hard he concentrated.

He was out of his room in a second. The silence and the coldness of the house became more prevalent; she always turned up the heat and put on soft folk music when she woke up first, because she hated being embraced by the cold. Ignoring the panic rising within him, he headed to the kitchen.

Finland wondered why he was still disappointed when he didn't see her there, humming along to songs he'd almost forgotten, working her magic on his stove.

“No, no,” he muttered to himself, wandering blindly into his living room. Merely thinking that she has fully disappeared from his life hurt deeply, and he wished that this was not the truth. That, somehow, the ancient built-in tracking system within his kind was only failing him today.

His head was swimming with thoughts; he couldn't easily shake them off and get a grip on himself. But in the end, Finland managed to force himself into a coat hanging by the rack beside his front door, then he was outside right away. Warm sunlight beat him from above, and he couldn't help but think that she would have loved this weather. 'Will love, still,' he added immediately. Thinking of her in the past tense wasn't helping the storm in his mind.

—

_“How did it happen?” he asked her gently, tracing small circles softly on her palm. His gaze never left hers, and he knew that she was more prone to speak if he did that; it meant that he really wanted to listen, and she loved him the most when he listened._

_Something in her dark eyes shifted. It softened, and then it shone, like she was about to cry. “I woke up and felt very hollow. Like someone snatched up an inner part of me while I was asleep.” She tilted her head, and the trace of unshed tears was gone. “I did not cry, you know. But I knew it. Luša was terrified of it happening, but we both knew it was bound to happen. She would never thrive in the Russian Empire.”_

_He sighed. Brought her hand up to his lips and kissed the palm he had been stroking earlier. “I'm sure she's somewhere out there, watching over you.”_

_Her laugh was light and sweet, a mellow sound not befitting the sharpness of her features and the darkness of her eyes. “Of course,” she said, and he wasn't sure if she was merely playing along with his strong belief in the existence of angels, “Luša will make a perfect angel, would she not? Ah, Pyry. She would have loved you very much, too, if only she had met you.”_

—

He refused to think of it that way: Raina disappearing the way Luša had done centuries ago. It was improbable, not when Courland was still remembered and cherished as a glorious part of history. And, besides, neither of her siblings had called him yet. If something did happen, he thought, they would have felt it.

Right?

He frisked over his pockets, checking if somehow he'd pocketed his phone. Which he hadn't, much to his chagrin; he could have called Raivis or Raimonds and ask for help.

Just then, something tugged at him from the inside. Halting his steps, Finland put a hand over his chest, feeling as if something was slid into place and suddenly the storm has passed.

There was a familiar bark from up ahead. “Mīļais, I thought you were sleeping in?” And there she was, holding Hanatamago by the leash, a tall to-go cup of steaming coffee clutched in her other hand. Her face was etched with worry.

“Latvia,” he said, rooted to his spot. He thought that, maybe, if he took his gaze off of her, she would disappear. “Raina, come here.”

She raised an eyebrow, but obliged anyway. Hana collided with his legs, happy and oblivious as she was. Latvia stood in front of him, her head tilted upwards. He was so relieved he almost laughed at their height difference.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

He didn't answer. Instead, he wordlessly tackled her into a tight embrace, pressing his nose into her hair and breathing her in. The coffee she was holding slipped out of her grasp, spilling dark liquid onto the asphalt sidewalk. Hana leaped out of the way; only Latvia's grip on her leash prevented the dog from running away.

“Well, apparently you have missed me so much,” she said, voice muffled. There was her sweet, sweet laughter again, sounding like the most beautiful kind of music to his ears as she reached up and threaded her fingers into his hair. “Was it a nightmare?”

Finland hesitated. “I thought I lost you,” he said slowly, voice shaking. “When I woke up I didn't feel your presence. I thought you disappeared.”

Latvia paused. He thought she was thinking of Luša again, of that morning when she disappeared and didn't come back. He pulled away, stared into her eyes. They were bright with tears.

Crying had come to her more easily the longer she stayed with him. It was a good thing, Raimonds had reassured him off-handedly when Finland confided in him, because a crying Raina meant that she wasn't holding everything inside her. It meant that she was being trusting.

“You probably just were not awake enough.” Her voice was surprisingly even despite her tears. Yet he could hear it, the unspoken words: she wouldn't leave, not today, at least. She gestured towards the wasted coffee, and her shoulders shook with soft laughter. “I took Hana for a walk and bought you coffee, but look at what you have done, mīļais.”

“I'm... I'm sorry?”

When she looked up at him again, there were no more tears. Instead there was the same fire, the constant embers he'd seen and loved all throughout the years. She pursed her lips. “Now we need to get a new one. And you have to buy me chocolate, too. As payment.”

“But I don't have my wallet with me!” he protested.

Latvia shook her head. “Nonsense. Go fetch it.” She tugged at Hana's leash, and crouched in front of the dog to stroke her fur. “Hana and I will wait for you here. Just go, Pyry, or I will give you a roundhouse kick.”

Now that's the Latvia he knew.

**Author's Note:**

> One of my headcanons for my Courland is that, sometimes, her existence isn't felt by others for a few minutes or hours. Realistically, the people of Courland have been extinct centuries ago, and while their descendants still live in Latvia, the tribe itself is long since been only seen in written history. So, Raina sometimes tends to 'fade.'
> 
> Luša is the Bishopric of Courland, a tiny bishopric formed during Terra Mariana era, and has existed until around the Duchy of Courland and Semigallia was absorbed by the Russian Empire.


End file.
